


In Deep (Warm) Water

by Kitsu



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, But Little Biting, Come as Lube, During season 2, Hot Springs & Onsen, Injury, M/M, Season/Series 02, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spit As Lube, Sypha is Alucard's Wingwoman, no redeeming value, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsu/pseuds/Kitsu
Summary: The travelling trio happens upon a hot spring, allowing themselves a small luxury while on the road.Or: Belmont doesn't stink any longer, and Adrian can't keep his hands to himself.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont, Alucard/Trevor Belmont, Trevor Belmont/Trevor Belmont | Alucard
Comments: 14
Kudos: 615





	In Deep (Warm) Water

Trevor Belmont was a dirty, filthy, stinking beast, a brute and a blunt oaf, only useful when killing monsters. Or so Adrian repeatedly told himself, trying to ignore the little voice of dissent at the back of his mind whispering profanities and wickedness whenever he watched the hunter fight - his lumbering form suddenly graceful, his whip moving in precise, calculated arches, always striking true, his blue eyes, commonly dulled by alcohol burning with bright focus. Fighting brought him to his right, made hims shine. 

Ignoring it, Adrian managed to disregard the voice for a long time by staying focused on the man’s less palatable attributes - that was, until they happened upon a natural hot spring while travelling through a deep cut valley between jagged mountains on the way to the Belmont estate. 

Steam from the wellspring filled the chilled evening air, blurring their surroundings even more than the lack of proper daylight, and both men had heard Sypha’s weary, dreamy sigh.

“You want a break?” Belmont had asked, quicker on the uptake than Adrian had anticipated. He read Sypha well, even after just their short time together. 

“Would you two mind? I mean, we would have stopped in an hour or two anyway, because of the lack of daylight, and who knows where?” She sounded apologetic, but she was right - even though they were in a hurry, exhausting themselves helped no-one. Their ultimate goal was a fight against Dracula after all, and though an hour meant more death, rushing might also might mean the death of them if they arrived in a less than stellar state.

“We’ll set up camp,” Adrian agreed. “Close to the spring, but far enough to allow Sypha some privacy while bathing.” 

“What about my privacy?” Belmont chuckled, obnoxious as always.

Adrian lifted an eyebrow, questioningly. “You don’t need privacy. You don’t bathe.”

Belmont growled, defiantly. “Watch me!”

\---

So he did, as soon as Sypha had finished bathing.

She’d spent almost an hour scouring the grime of travelling and monster killing both from her hair and skin, the warm water of the spring relaxing her every muscle. Done, she’d returned to the camp, sitting down by the fire they lit in her absence. 

“You two go,” she’d said. “I’ll look after the fire. I left soap on the stony edge at the far edge of the spring, bring it back, please.”

Trevor’d all but jumped to his feet and jogged towards the spring before stripping in an instance and jumping in, not bothered by the twilight surrounding him.

Adrian, on the other hand stalked after him slowly, biding his time, not even sure he wanted into the water. He felt clean enough, and no soreness plagued his muscles, but it might be nice still. A break from sorrow, strife, chaos and death, however fleeting a moment.

Arriving at the spring he found Trevor lazily swimming around, only his head and shoulders above water, his hair plastered to his head. He’d been under already. Undressing slowly, he watched Trevor from the corner of his eye, watched as he swam over to the soap, rubbed it between his hands and used the lather to soap up his hair. Adrian noticed a change in the scent of the man almost instantly, it changing from the usual stale ale, grime and coagulated monster blood, to something more crisp. Clean. The reek of his clothes was still a note in the air, but it didn’t emanate from the man himself any longer - his scent turning out to be that of crispness and warmth. Intriguing in its duality. 

Leaving his own clothes in a neat pile, Adrian stepped into the water, the heat almost too much against his winter-chilled skin. Submerging himself slowly, then lifting his arms above the surface again, he studied the pink flush they had taken on, the corners of his mouth turning up in a half smile. He looked like a newborn babe. Sinking down all the way to his chin again, he moved his hands around under water, enjoying the swirling warmth, happy he hadn’t inherited the vampires’ distaste of moving water. Keeping clean was a virtue imprinted on him by his mother. Filth bred disease, and though he didn’t himself get sick, he just couldn’t stand it. 

Kicking his feet, he let himself drift through the water, slowly, feeling his hair, the lower half soaked through, trail behind him, heavy in his wake. It wouldn’t hurt washing it if Sypha’s soap was a decent quality, and Belmont hadn’t spent it all already. Swimming over, he found his footing again, reaching out a hand towards Belmont, indicating he wanted the soap. 

Belmont eyed him with no small amount of amusement apparent in his features. “Say 'please'.”

Though rolling his eyes, Adrian obliged. “The soap, please.”

Laughing, Belmont tossed it to him, before sinking down into the water again, rinsing his hair out. 

Adrian smelled the soap - olive and laurel. So much better than the more-often-than-not rancid tallow soap most inns supplied along with baths. Sypha must have brought it from a previous travel in the east, it wasn’t something one easily acquired at any common market. 

Wetting his hair, he started lathering it up, pulling the wet mass across his shoulder to get to it all, working the soap into it, while standing waist deep in the warm water. After a moment he realized Belmont had finished rinsing out his own hair and that his eyes were following his every move. 

“You’re staring, Belmont,” he stated without halting his motions, voice flat and even.

Belmont froze for a moment, caught out, but soon returned to his relaxed state, still staring. “Just watching and thinking. You should look like a woman with all that hair, standing around in a pond like a some wet tart, intent on seducing men to a watery death. But you don’t. Not at all.”

“Of course not, I’m a soldier, not some soft curved, aquatic harlot,” Alucard stated flatly.

“Still think you could seduce at least a woman or five, and even a few men to join you in the water, the way you’re looking right now.”

Looking up from underneath long lashes, Adrian locked eyes with Trevor, who had water up to his chin. “And does that include you, Belmont, since you won’t take your eyes off me?”

Though covered in water, Adrian saw the shrug of Trevor’s shoulders. “Meh, it’s just an observation. You _do_ look the part of a princeling, pretty and pale, but your personality sucks.”

“Said the foul-mouthed, ale-swigging Belmont.” Adrian finished lathering his hair, placed the soap back on the ground again, and sank into the water, working it out of the lengths.

“I am what I am,” Belmont continued. “ I’m easy, no hidden depths to me. Still not sure what you really are, though.”

“Half man, half vampire, intent on killing my father. It is all you need to be aware of.”

“Sure sure, young Prince of Darkness.”

Ignoring Belmont’s teasing, Adrian leaned back, washing the soap out from the hair at the top of his head. Letting his legs drift up to the surface, he was floating, catching glimpses of a star-studded sky between drifting clouds of steam. The heat of the pool surrounded him, smelling weakly of minerals, and the subterranean, yet the laurel scent of the soap still lingered on his hair, filling his nose. 

Belmont smelled of the same soap, and _him._ The only thing bothering Adrian was the pile of Belmont’s clothes, stink itching in his nose. Something _had_ to be done about them. Twisting, he started swimming lazily to where they were strewn on the ground. Standing up quickly, he whipped his hair back, making sure to _drench_ the items in water. 

“Fuck, my clothes!” Trevor roared, suddenly scrambling through the water. 

Turning his head, all innocence, Adrian looked over his shoulder at the garments. “Did I get them wet? You might as well wash them then, since they’re already soaked.”

Turning back, he found himself face to face with the seething Belmont sticking a finger in his chest, accusingly. “You did that on purpose!”

“Oh, did I now?” he answered, not even trying to sound innocent. Looking down at the finger prodding him, he noticed they were both in shallower water, only to above their knees now. Also noticing Belmont’s _condition_ , he let his eyes ride up, taking in every detail of tan skin across defined muscles. Every scar, every imperfection made his fingers twitch, a hitherto unknown desire to touch making itself known. Letting his eyes drift all the way up, locking with Belmont’s, he noticed a slight blush that hadn’t been there a moment ago had settled across the top of the man’s cheeks. “Seems you might appreciate water nymphs and princelings after all, Belmont.”

The rage in Belmont’s eyes had washed away in an instant, and the finger digging into Adrian’s chest was pulled away quickly, as if he’d been burned. “You weren’t supposed to notice…,” Belmont said, deflated.

“Really now,” Adrian purred. “Did you really think you could hide something like that from a _vampire_ , as you insist on calling me? The instant you were out of the water, I could smell it. Especially now that you do not smell like horseshit any longer.”

“So my cock doesn’t hate a pretty face,” Trevor answered, expression vacillating between shame, awkwardness and something else entirely. “Too bad it’s too dumb to know when the face’s owner is an asshole.” 

Adrian laughed, Belmont’s insults something he’d come to oddly appreciate, ever since the “Eat shit and die!” first thrown a him. Closing the distance between them, he stopped, face twisting into something other than its usual cold mask. A little taller than the hunter, he looked down his nose at him. “Trevor _Belmont_ , do you want me? What _would_ your ancestors say?” His voice was honeyed sweet, dripping with the syrupy, stinging poison of _promise_.

“Oh fucking hell,” Trevor breathed, voice barely above a whisper. Adrian watched the flush spread, the black of Belmont's eyes unfurl, drowning out blue. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I never kid,” Adrian said, voice still even and sweet, as he leaned closer, almost resting his forehead against Belmont’s. “Right now, you smell good. Maybe you’d taste good as well.” He felt relaxed after the swim, warm and sated - and when Belmont didn’t stink or run his mouth like an obstinate, petulant child, he was actually an attractive man in his own right, broad and strong and hard.

“I’m not your fucking meal,” Trevor growled, still flushed.

“Oh, never say never. But I wasn’t about to eat you, little Belmont.” Lifting his hand and curling his fingers under Belmont’s chin, Adrian tilted the hunter's head to the side. Dropping his head low, he pressed an open mouth against damp, tan skin, drawing circles with his tongue. Belmont’s reaction was immediate, slumping against Adrian’s chest, a moan on his lips. Adrian guessed Trevor hadn’t exactly overindulged in intimacy over the years - his dour demeanour as much an intentional deterrent keeping anyone at a sword’s distance as anything. Adrian saw through it. Belmont was as much of a lost soul as he himself, the world never granting them any favours. So maybe he could grant one, at least. 

Moving his hands, he placed them on Trevor’s hips, pulling, erasing any space between their pelvises. Trevor was hard against him, and his own cock twitched in response, responding to the arousal of the other, the heat, and hardness and friction. 

“How would you have me, Belmont?” he asked, willing to cater to the other’s needs. 

Belmont’s eyes widened again, the gears turning behind his eyes all but visible. “You’d let me…? _You_?” His disbelief was quite obvious. 

“I would.” Adrian answered, waiting, watching the other make his mind up.

“No, I…” Belmont continued. “I think I’d want you to…”

“Fuck you?” Adrian ended the sentence for him, echoing the many insults thrown at the other over the last few weeks.

He felt Belmont’s spine straighten, his decision even physical. “Yes.”

No more words needed, Adrian leaned in, taking command of Trevor’s mouth, demanding, _taking_. Belmont’s hands rose from his sides to twist around Adrian’s waist, blunt nails digging against his lower back, no less demanding than Adrian’s mouth. 

Snaking a hand in between them, he wrapped his fingers around both their cocks, the hiss escaping Trevor’s lips just delicious. Looking around quickly, he searched out a shallower depth by the pool’s edge. Turning them around, he forced Belmont to slowly back up, feet tentatively searching for footing with every barefoot step across stone. 

When the back of Trevor’s calves hit the ledge, Adrian pushed him to sit, hands on his shoulders. Sliding back down in the water, he kneeled on the rocky bottom, searching out a position where his knees wouldn’t hurt too bad. Placing a palm against Trevor’s chest, he pushed him back, until he was on his resting on his elbows, feet still dangling in the water. 

Hands on Trevor’s hips, Adrian ran his thumbs across the protruding bone, soothing, touching. Dipping his head low, he ran the tip of his tongue along the length of Trevor’s cock, resting against his belly - and Trevor shuddered beneath him. The sound of Trevor’s head hitting against stone as he whipped his arms, arms that he had been resting his weight on, up to claw at Adrian’s skalp, ignoring the fact that it would drop his head straight onto stone as it did should have been sickening, but Belmont barely seemed to take notice, and for Adrian the slight scent of blood trickling from broken skin simply intoxicating.

Hand joining his mouth, he angled Trevor’s cock, wrapped his lips against it, tongue flat against the underside. Breathing in, he appreciated that even this part of Trevor now smelled of laurel, tasted clean, tasted of arousal. 

Working tongue, mouth and fingers across skin, careful with his fangs, he revelled in the sounds he was pulling from Trevor’s lips, the hunter far more open, more responsive than he had anticipated. Trevor’s fingers were tangled in Adrian’s wet hair, digging into skin, pushing him closer, asking for more. So more he gave, swallowing down as much of the length he could, humming appreciatively. The fingers in his hair twitched, pulled, a warning he chose not to heed. Pulling away from the fingers, tearing out a few strands of his own hair, he intensified his measures, wanting what was coming.

The heat on his tongue and the sound of Trevor’s drawn out moan in his ears were heaven. Breathing deeply through his nose, he savoured the taste of come in his mouth, salty, warm. Straightening his spine, he looked a dazed Trevor Belmont in the eyes and opened his mouth, letting spit and come drip down his chin into an open palm, never breaking the stare. 

Trevor flushed bright red, his eyes wide and unblinking, mouth half open and slack, as he watched. “Well, that’s a fucking sight I’ll never forget,” he breathed. 

Smiling, wicked and toothily, Adrian laughed. “On your knees,” he commanded, sitting back as Trevor obliged him. On his knees in the water, torso flat against the stone edge, the hunter was a fucking sight. 

Rubbing a come and spit-slicked finger against Trevor’s entrance, Adrian watched as back muscle tensed, rippled. Pushing in, he listened intently to the noises produced by Trevor - needy, little whimpers escaping clenched teeth. Searching, he found the spot to make those sounds louder, needier. Another finger and Trevor was squirming, pushing back, hands straining against the rocky ground. 

“What do you want, little Belmont?” Adrian murmured. "Tell me and I'll happily give it to you."

"Fuck me," Trevor ground back. "Now!"

Adrian silently obliged, pushing into him, all tightness and warmth and fucking bliss. Bottomed out he paused, trying to breath, trying to think. It proved difficult in a dark world consisting only of Trevor Belmont's ass around his cock, Trevor Belmont's skin, heated and sweat slicked underneath his hands, Trevor Belmont's whimpers and groans filling his ears, and the scent of Trevor- _fucking_ -Belmont's blood invading his nose, making his mouth water. 

Unseen, he let go, head tilted back in a silent wolf howl under the stream-shrouded moon. Red haze clouded his vision, tunneled it, until all he could focus on was the pulse beating below Trevor's ear, fast, but steady. His fangs tickled his lower lip, hunger gripping his core with dark, bleak talons. His fingers turned claws, blades against skin, and he let go, for fear of hurting. 

Then Trevor looked back at him over his shoulder, eyes dark and needy. "No, don’t. I don't care if it hurts. Touch me, keep your hands on me."

Grabbing hold of Trevor's hair, Adrian peeled he away from the stones beneath, onto outstretched arms. Grabbing his shoulder, Adrian found leverage, something to ground himself as he pulled back out, and rammed back in. The feral thing in him set the pace, just shy of brutal. 

His eyes narrowed to slits when the wetness of Trevor's hair mixed with the blood from the gash at the back of his head. It trickled, trailed, a little river of red, down between his strained shoulder blades, down his spine, caressing each vertebra on its way. Adrian watched, enthralled, as it twisted a path all the way down to where their bodies connected, mixing with come and spit, life and death, and fucking filthy. Not able to take it, shaken to his core by the mesmerizing sight, he leaned in, head dipped low, still keeping his pace. His tongue found the river of red, lapping it up, running the length of Trevor's spine from below his shoulder blades, the river's taste headier the closer to its source he came. His fangs rested flat against skin, the small amount of control he still possessed keeping them inactive.

Whenever his fangs touched skin, Trevor flinched, and he knew he had to keep them away. Forehead against Trevor's back, he tried stilling the beast, breathing shallow and ragged, his thrusts now the same, unsatisfactory to them both.

“Fuck it,” Trevor hissed. “If… If you want it, take it. Just… If it hurts, I’ll kill you.”

Happy Trevor would be willing to let him, he breathed, stilled himself more. He wanted it, but he didn’t need it. It wasn’t his reason. Calming, he finally pushed the beast down, until it was simply the echo in the back of his mind as it always was. “Appreciate the offer,” he whispered, letting his mouth and now shorter fangs run along the top of Trevor’s shoulder. “But not now.”

Concentrating, he steadied himself, hands on Trevor’s hips again, returning to his steadier pace, until Trevor’s little noises were again filling his ears, a tenseness to his form revealing his state. Pulling Trevor’s torso close, he rested his chin on his shoulder, looking down. Hands freed, Trevor was quick to fist his cock, timing his hand to Adrian’s thrusts. Wrapping his arm around Trevor’s waist, he watched, thrusting, humming contently as Trevor gave himself over yet again, spilling across his fingers. 

The tenseness around him was both pleasure and agony, driving Adrian to thrust quickly a few more times, the same tension quickly overtaking him as well. The heat and pressure started at his core, twisted up his spine, making him curl in on himself, unable to not bruise Trevor’s hip, nor relax the almost bone-crushing grip around his waist. Breath caught in the twist of muscle, he found himself silenced, biting down on the tan expanse of skin in front of him, hard enough to draw blood, but never drinking, as he came inside Trevor, filling him up.

In the dead silence that followed, the exhaustion and relaxation left him unable to support both their weights, and they slumped together, deeper into the water. The warmth of it blanketed them, washed away the filth of their actions, and he chuckled softly, worn out. 

Trevor, still in his grip, was breathing heavily, rubbing the sore spot on his neck.

“Sorry about that,” Adrian sighed. Even when not feeding his fangs were sharp enough to break skin. “I hurt you, I suppose you’re going to have to kill me now.”

“Mah, can’t complain about this, I was so out I barely noticed. It just stings a little now, but in a good way, sort of.” Trevor didn’t sound to displeased, at lest.

Leaning in, Adrian ran his tongue over the bruise, the little taste of Trevor a last indulgence for the night. “Let me kiss it better,” he said, chuckling again.

“That’s not kissing. But damn, it feels better…” Trevor tilted his head, giving Adrian access.

“Mmmh,” Adrian hummed as he finished. “The actual power of a vampire. If I fed, you’d love it if I wanted you to - or you’d hate it, fear it If I wanted you to. I decide.” Letting go, he stretched, feeling like a cat resting in the sun, warm and content. Getting on his feet, and reached out a helping hand to Belmont, pulling him to his feet. “Wash your clothes, keep clean, and I’ll give you the full experience another time.”

“Fuck you, vampire,” Trevor grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, flush again gracing his face. 

“If you please - and manage to stay a little less offensive to my nose in the future.” Laughing in earnest, Adrian stalked out of the water to wring out his hair and rub hands across his skin to remove some of the water. Not having anything to completely dry off with, he opted to simply pull on his pants over damp skin, then trek back to the camp; curse Sypha’s eyes, she’d seen in the same state of dress - undress - before. 

As he settled by the fire to dry himself completely, she stared at him, laughter in her eyes. “You finally did it, didn’t you?”

Adrians face portrayed the epitome of innocence. “Did what?” 

“You finally gave him a reason to shape up - what did you think I meant?”

Smiling, he stared into the fire. “How did you know?”

Tilting her head, she looked him over. “You look frighteningly like a cat who got the cream right now. Also, you two weren’t exactly quiet. Only thing I was glad was that if any monsters should stumble upon our camp in the night, they’d been sure to bypass me and go straight for you two dumbasses. At least the both of you are capable of taking care of yourself.” 

Sharing the heat of the fire in continued silence, it took a good while before Trevor returned to the camp, tossing the rest of the soap to Sypha. “Thank you for letting us borrow it.”

“No problem, if it makes for less rank travel companions. The Speakers trade for it, group to group, when we meet up, all the way from the lands of Syria. The fabric of our robes also comes to us that way, traded from group to group.” She wrapped the bar in a piece of fabric and stowed it away in a satchel.

Adrian studied Trevor, noting he was in the same state as undress as himself, though his trousers were damp, bordering wet. The rest of his clothes were being hung on branches around them, the laurel scent filling the night. Though Adrian wouldn’t feel the cold of the night, especially with the fire roaring, Trevor would, soon. Beckoning him over, Adrian handed him his folded up coat. “Use this as a blanket while you sleep, can’t have you die from frost bite. I’ll keep watch tonight.” 

“Don’t need your charity, vampire,” Trevor growled, brows knitted in expression of his usual spite - so quick to return, not even a good fuck managing to keep him docile for a longer time.

“No, you don’t, but admittedly it was I who soaked your clothes. No need to suffer because of it. Go to sleep, when you wake your own clothes will be drier.”

Huffing, Belmont accepted and curled up as close to the fire as safe, to dry his trousers as well - his torso wrapped up in Adrian’s coat. 

\---

The next morning, when the coat was returned to Adrian, it smelled of himself, fire, laurels and _Trevor Belmont._ Glad Belmont had his back to him, busy dressing himself, he momentarily buried his face in the fabric, inhaling, his eyelashes fluttering. 

Sypha saw, a soft cackle escaping her. Walking past him she whispered, “If you like his scent that much, we better make sure to drop him in ponds and lakes more often. Everyone deserves to feel good once in a while.”

Adrian was more than happy to agree. He was in deep water - and he just needed to see to it that Belmont joined him there.

**Author's Note:**

> Just shy of crack, I suppose. Again, not sorry. 
> 
> Did a little research, and there are actually hot springs in Romania. The soap is Aleppo soap, made from olive and laurel oil, produced there for hundreds and hundreds of years. I really like the scent of it.
> 
> Kudos to whomever spots my silly Monthy Python reference.


End file.
